Читать книгу Highland Lover - Hannah Howell - Страница 10

There was a hunchbacked man sleeping next to her. Alana closed her eyes and slowly opened them again. He was still there. When the hump upon his back moved, she nearly leapt out of the bed. The fact that she was too weak to move so quickly was all that kept her in place long enough for good sense to prevail.

The man sleeping next to her had long, shining black hair. His scent was familiar to her. Even the weight of the arm draped around her waist and the sound of his breathing were familiar. It was Gregor sleeping next to her, she realized, and smiled faintly. She had fallen asleep to that not-quite-a-snore sound he made too many times not to recognize it now that she had a moment to think clearly.

Then Alana frowned. Since she did not believe someone could grow a lump upon his back in but a day or two, what was that lump? Cautiously, she lifted the covers, and her newly recovered calm immediately dissipated. The gray cat staring at her from its warm, comfortable place upon Gregor’s broad back did not disturb her at all. The fact that she was completely naked did, however. It disturbed her a lot.

She quickly lowered the covers, resisting the strong urge to see if Gregor was also naked, and clutched the blankets to her chest. A slight movement at her side drew her attention and she slowly turned her head. Alana found herself staring into Gregor’s beautiful eyes and felt herself blush.

“I am naked,” she whispered.

“Aye, lass, that ye are,” replied Gregor, idly wondering just how far down that deep blush went.

“Why am I naked?”

“Because ye were all asweat when your fever broke and I didnae think ye should be left lying in a damp shift. The other shift wasnae dry enough, either, and I had to rip up your third shift so that I would have rags to wash ye down with.” As he watched the import of those words sink into her mind, Gregor was amazed at how her blush deepened, for he would not have thought she could get any redder.

“I had a fever?” Alana asked and immediately began to recall several things that she had thought were only strange dreams. “Ah, I think I do recall feeling ill. How long was I feverish?”

“Nearly three days.”

Alana stared down at her hands, still clutching the blanket tightly against her chest, and idly noticed that those hands were no longer bandaged and were nearly healed. She knew she ought to be deeply embarrassed by the knowledge that Gregor had cared for her for nearly three days. Now she could recall the feel of a cool cloth bathing her skin, easing the heat that ravaged her body. There would have been other intimacies as well. Yet all she could think of was that he now knew she was no child. Her breasts might not be large, but he could hardly have missed them when he removed her binding.

He knew she had lied to him. Perhaps lie was too strong a word, she thought. She had simply not corrected his assumption. Alana inwardly cursed. It was a lie and it revealed a lack of trust she truly had not felt. It was going to be difficult to explain why she had not told him the truth, especially since she was not completely sure of the why of it herself.

She looked at him again. He was watching her closely, the hint of a smile curving his mouth. At any other time, she would have found the sight of the cat’s head poking out from beneath the blanket amusing. It was watching her as closely as Gregor was. Alana wondered if there was any chance they could simply ignore the lie.

“Ye have a cat upon your back,” she said and could tell by the look in his eyes that Gregor knew what game she tried to play. That look also told her it was not going to work.

“I am aware of that,” he drawled.

“Where did it come from?”

“Whoever lived here obviously decided to abandon it when they left. How old are ye, Alana?”

The abrupt question startled her so that she answered without hesitation. “Two-and-twenty.”

Gently turning so that the cat removed itself from his back, Gregor lay on his side facing her. “Why are ye searching for your sister?”

“How do ye ken that?”

“Ye told me.”

She obviously became far too talkative when gripped by a fever, Alana decided and grimaced. It was also clear that she had revealed enough that it was foolish to try to hold fast to her secrets now. Since she and Gregor were united in trying to escape the Gowans, it was better if he knew the whole truth anyway.

“Aye, I am looking for my sister, my twin sister Keira,” she said. “We have heard nothing from her since her husband died several months ago. Weel, nothing but some very alarming rumors. Her husband had been cruelly murdered, her lands had been taken by a vile mon, she had been wounded badly and fled, or died, or was being held prisoner. Dark tale after dark tale.”

“Did none of your people go to her keep to find out the truth?”

“Two. When the first did not return, another went. He returned but only lived long enough to tell us that Keira was not being held captive, that rumor said she had been wounded but had escaped, and that the devil himself held fast to her lands.”

“And so ye set out to find her?” Gregor rose from the bed before he gave in to the strong urge to take her into his arms.

Alana stared at him as he got out of the bed. He wore only his braies. As he stretched, she watched the muscles in his broad back and long, well-shaped legs flex and felt as if her fever had returned. She had to bite back a soft protest when he began to dress. The man was such a pleasure to look at, it seemed a sin to cover all that beauty. She forced her wanton thoughts aside and put her mind back on the matter of the search for Keira.

“My brothers Artan and Lucas decided to go ahunting for Keira. I wished to go with them. Keira is my twin, after all. She would wish me to be at her side, especially if she was hurt. No one would heed my wishes, however. So I slipped away and followed my brothers, intending to join with them once we were far enough away from home so that they couldnae send me back.”

It was not the full truth, and she felt a little guilty about that. Caution was necessary, however. People clung to a lot of superstitions concerning twins. Sometimes people still set the second born out to die or killed the child themselves. Learning just how close a bond there could be between those who had shared a womb only added to those unreasonable fears. Although Alana could not sense such foolishness in Gregor, she reluctantly admitted that she was too great a coward to test it.

Gregor built up the fire and set the pot of stew over it to warm. “And ye lost your brothers’ trail?”

“Aye, although I believe I could have found them if the Gowans hadnae arrived.”

“Considering the danger they may be riding into, are ye truly surprised that they didnae wish ye to ride with them?”

He had turned to face her again and was giving her one of those manly looks, the one that said she had behaved like a witless female driven by emotion and not wisdom. It made her teeth clench. Alana took a few deep breaths to calm her rising temper. Considering the trouble she had stumbled into, he probably thought his opinion justified. It was tempting to point out the fact that he, a big strong man, had stumbled into the same trouble, but she bit back the words. She recognized what the hard set of his jaw meant. Arguing with him would gain her nothing more than a throbbing headache.

“Keira is in trouble. ’Tis my duty to be with her.”

Although he could understand her need to help find her sister, Gregor still thought she had acted recklessly. He had the feeling she did, too, but he would probably be ten years dead before she admitted as much. There was nothing to gain in arguing the matter, anyway. He was more interested in who she was and what she planned to do once they had shaken free of the Gowans.

“Do ye have the strength to dress yourself?” he asked, deciding to wait until after they broke their fast to question her some more.

“Aye,” she replied, certain she could at least get herself more modestly covered before she might be forced to ask him for some help.

Gregor handed her her clothes and then left the cottage to tend to his personal needs. Now that she was no longer insensible, he knew he would have to be more considerate of her modesty. He would also have to find the strength to keep his lust tightly leashed if he did have to help her. He could only hope that she regained her strength quickly so that she could tend to herself without any help from him.

By the time Alana had donned her shift, braies, and hose, she was so weak she was shaking. She sprawled on her back and struggled to steady herself. The fever had obviously badly sapped her strength. It would probably be several days before she and Gregor could leave this cottage, and that worried her. Alana was sure the Gowans were hunting for them. This sanctuary could all too easily become a trap. Thick-witted though the Gowans were, she doubted the men would allow her and Gregor another chance to escape if they captured them. The dark, damp pit would be made even more secure.

Alana shivered at the thought of returning to that lightless prison. It shamed her a little, but her first concern when considering the possibility of being imprisoned again was not for her sister. It was for her own sanity. Alana hoped she proved as robust as she usually did and regained her strength quickly. She was eager to put herself far out of the reach of the Gowans.

Gregor returned just as she was reaching for the rest of her clothes. Alana blushed, but did not refuse his aid when he moved to help her. Despite a few moments of rest, she was still feeling unsteady, and pride would not get her dressed.

Embarrassment kept her silent as Gregor wrapped her in a blanket and carried her to a small stone privy behind the house. Considering what intimate quarters they had been sharing until just a few days ago, and all he must have done for her as he tended her fever, Alana did not know why she was embarrassed. She supposed it could be because now she was not sick and it was not dark.

When Gregor carried her back into the house, he set her on her feet but kept a firm grip upon her shoulders. “Can ye stand here for a wee while, lass? I am going to put the bed back together.”

“Aye.” She leaned against the wall. “At worst, if my legs prove too weak, I will just slide down the wall and sit upon the floor.”

He laughed softly but hurried to get the mattress back on the bed, making it up with the blankets as he had when it had been on the floor. There was now much more wood at hand and the weather had improved, so he felt he no longer needed to have her sleep right in front of the fire. By the time he walked back to Alana, she actually was in danger of sliding down the wall to sit upon the floor. He picked her up and carried her to the bed.

“The fever has badly weakened me,” Alana murmured as she sat on the bed, her back against the wall and the blanket spread over her legs.

“It had set in hard, true enough,” Gregor said and moved to get her some of the broth from the rabbit stew. “Try a wee bit of this. If it sets weel in your belly, then later ye can try some of the heartier fare that was cooked in it.”

Alana sipped at the broth and welcomed how it warmed her insides. It was not the best tasting she had ever sampled, but it was good enough for now. Most men knew how to make camp food, and Alana had to admit that Gregor had obviously tried to make something to tempt her appetite. She counted herself fortunate that he had not simply roasted the rabbit on a spit and handed her a slab of meat to gnaw on. Alana hoped that it would not be long, however, before she could savor the heartier fare that Gregor was enjoying.

Gregor took her empty bowl, set it aside with his, and sat down beside her on the bed. “Now, lass, mayhap ye will answer a few questions for me.”

“Mayhap,” she said, “if ye will do the same.”

“Aye, fair enough, but I think ye can go first. Exactly who are ye?”

Since there was really no sense in continuing to keep her name a secret, she replied, “Alana Murray of Donncoill. And ye are?”

“Gregor MacFingal Cameron.”

“Three names?”

“MacFingal is of my father’s creation because he had a falling-out with his Cameron kinsmen. I think ye may have heard of a few of my kinsmen. My brother Ewan is married to Fiona MacEnroy, sister to Connor MacEnroy, the laird of Deilcladach, who is wed to—”

“My cousin Gillyanne!” Alana stared at him, nearly gaping in surprise, and then she frowned. “Ye dinnae look verra surprised by such a strange twist of fate.”

“Ah, weel, ye spoke of some of your kinswomen whilst ye were feverish. Gillyanne was one of the names ye mentioned, and that is why my surprise isnae as great as yours.”

Alana wondered a little nervously about what else she might have said, but resisted the urge to ask Gregor. If she had said something too embarrassing and revealing, she would just as soon not know about it. She had dealt with enough feverish people to know the one tending to them could become an unwilling confidant, privy to a great many secrets. One of the few secrets she still held fast to at the moment was the growing attraction she felt for Gregor, and she prayed she had not babbled about that.

“Fate is definitely playing a game with us,” she murmured.

“Fate, luck—good and bad—and a few ill-thought-out decisions. Ye shouldnae have followed your brothers, and I shouldnae have been traveling alone.”

“Why were ye traveling alone?”

That was not a question Gregor felt inclined to answer, at least not with the complete truth. “The only escort I could get were men I didnae ken weel. Since there wasnae any talk of troubles in the land I intended to ride through, I felt I could make my way home alone.”

The way Gregor did not meet her gaze as he answered her question made Alana think he was not telling her the full truth. At first, she felt angry over his lack of trust and then scolded herself for being a hypocrite. She was not telling him the whole truth, either. He could simply be reluctant to tell her that he had been returning home from some tryst. Since she did not want to hear about any woman in his life, not even some fleeting entanglement based upon an equally fleeting lust, she decided not to press him on the matter.

“Why were ye pretending to be a child?” he asked.

Pleased with the diversion from thoughts of Gregor with another woman, Alana replied, “I thought I would be safer. I cannae say the Gowans would have treated me differently if they kenned I was a woman, but it was probably best that I ne’er tested them.”

“I am surprised your kinsmen didnae set out in search of you.”

“Ah, weel, they did, but I eluded them. They didnae persist too long, so they must have found the message I left behind telling them exactly what I was doing.”

“But ye also lost your brothers, aye?”

“Aye, but I am certain I would have found them again if the Gowans hadnae captured me.” She could tell by the look upon his handsome face that he had some serious doubts about her claim.

“Where do you think your sister is?”

“I am nay sure. All I am sure of is that she isnae dead and she needs help.”

“Then we shall look for her. And for your brothers. It seems as if any who set out for Ardgleann find trouble. Now that ye have begun your search, ’tis best if ye finish it, but nay alone. Now, there willnae be any husband or betrothed rushing about looking for ye, will there? I dinnae wish to be caught up in that sort of trouble.” Gregor found that he loathed the idea of any other man having a claim to her.

“Och, nay. No husband and no betrothed.”

At least not yet, she added silently. Her father had been ready to find a husband for her and she had been ready for him to do so. Alana suspected her father was not acting on that plan at the moment, but she was not sure how much he had accomplished before she left Donncoill. She felt certain any choice he did make would still require her approval before any firm betrothal agreement was made, however. Since she had not given her consent to anyone, she decided that little complication did not need to be mentioned. If nothing else, she did not want Gregor to know that her father had to find a husband for her because no other man had asked for her hand. It might be the way of things for others, but Murray women were allowed to choose their mates and she found it lowering that she had never even had a choice offered to her.

“It was hard for me when Keira married and went to Ardgleann,” she said, and found she still felt the pinch of that loss. “It was hard for her, too, but as most women do, she wanted her own home and children. Donald MacKail seemed to be a good mon. Yet, what few letters she wrote didnae carry any real hint of happiness. Something wasnae right. I was certain of it. I finally requested that I be allowed to come to her, for just a wee visit, to see how matters stood with mine own eyes. I am nay sure if she e’en received that letter, for soon after we were hearing of some mon named Rauf Mowbray taking Ardgleann, that Donald was dead, probably murdered, and that Keira had gone missing. We assumed she had fled from Ardgleann and was returning to us. As I told ye, soon even more rumors drifted our way, darker ones about what a beast Mowbray was and that Keira had been badly hurt.”

“And then it was decided that your brothers would hunt for her? Did no one suggest taking an army to Ardgleann?”

“Aye, of course they did, but it was decided that it would be best to wait until we kenned what poor Keira’s fate was. From what little we could learn of Mowbray, challenging him could get Keira killed if she was still within his grasp. Plans were being made for battle when I left, but naught would be done until we kenned what had befallen Keira.”

Gregor shook his head. “Difficult, especially if she is hiding from Mowbray. And aye, I have heard some verra dark things said of the mon. Your people are probably right to think he would just kill her if he was confronted and threatened. If e’en half of what is said about the mon is true, he is the verra worst of outlaws. His men are as weel.” He put an arm around her shoulders when she shivered. “A mon declared an outlaw by the crown walks with death at his shoulder. He kens any mon can kill him with impunity and so cares little what crimes he commits. The fact that Mowbray still lives implies that he isnae an easy mon to corner or defeat.”

“And now he has a keep to shelter in.”

“Aye. Your kinsmen are wise to wait until they ken more about your sister, about Ardgleann, and about Mowbray.”

“I ken it, but it doesnae make it any easier to bear.”

When she struggled to hide a wide yawn behind her hand, he smiled faintly and got off the bed. It was wise to put some distance between them anyway. When he had not been certain of her age, his lustful feelings had been easy enough to curtail, if only because it had horrified him that he might be feeling that way toward a child. Now that he had seen the beauty beneath her clothes, a need to make love to her seemed to have become a permanent part of him. Even when she had been feverish, it had been nearly impossible to ignore the allure of that lithe, soft body he bathed with cool water. He had to sternly remind himself now that she was only newly recovered, that she was still weak, and that the very last thing she needed was some lusty fool mauling her.

“Rest, lass,” he said as he gently urged her to lie down. “’Tis best and will help ye regain the strength the fever robbed ye of.”

Even as he tucked the blanket around her, she was asleep. Gregor shook his head when the cat leapt up onto the bed and curled up against Alana’s back. Lucky cat, he thought. He would like to be there, his arms wrapped around her slender body and his own body sated and warm after a hearty bout of lovemaking.

Time to go ahunting, he decided as his body tightened with a need that was nearly painful. He collected the hunting bow and arrows he had taken from the Gowans and left the cottage. Gregor did not particularly care if he actually caught anything, but he needed to get away from Alana and clear the fog of lust from his mind. It was time to make some hard decisions.

Guilt wracked him as he fully accepted the fact that he could not marry Mavis despite the strong lure of her dowry. That had caused him to waver in his decision more than once, but no longer. Mavis was a good woman, and she deserved better than a husband who could never give her his whole heart. He was still not sure if Alana was his true mate, but he knew for certain that Mavis was not. The ferocity of the need he felt for Alana was proof of that. He had never felt anything like that for Mavis and doubted he ever would, no matter how many years he was married to her and how good a wife she was. As soon as he returned to Scarglas, he would send word to Mavis and her father that the betrothal would not go ahead. He would send Mavis a more personal missive explaining his reasons more gently and as honestly as he dared.

That left him with the question of what to do about Alana. She was a free woman of two-and-twenty, a woman who had been ready to be courted for years now. Gregor did not feel confident of his courting skills, however. Even with Mavis, he had done little wooing except of her father, for he was the one who controlled the purse. Somehow Gregor did not think the few flirtatious games he had played with Mavis—and had played with other women—would impress Alana. He was going to have to come up with a whole new plan, and one that would help him decide if Alana was truly the mate he had been looking for but would not offer any false hopes of a future in case she proved to be the wrong one. And one very large part of that plan would be seduction, for he had no intention of getting all the way to Scarglas without at least once tasting Alana Murray. Preferably more than once.